Tales of Scathach the Solitary
by Anna Scathach
Summary: A collection of tales, fairytales, horror stories, romance, drama and adventure. Second chapter: Beloved Cinderella.
1. At the Witching Hour

_A/N: This is the first part of a series of small tales (yes, drabbles, AGAIN), that are as different as possible, just because I'd like to try out some things concerning writing, genres, canon compliance and plot. This tale, Horror - At the Witching Hour was inspired by an incident in Lian Hearn's excellent Clan of the Otori 5 (for those who are interested, I'm planning a Takeo/Kaede fic)._

_By the way, I'd like to inform you I've opened an account for French translations on this site: Just check my profile for the Anna Rhiannon link._

_And last of all, I want to thank everybody who's read (and reviewed) my stories so far. Thanks with all my heart. Merci. Danke. Grazie. Gracias. Kiitos._

_Disclaimer: I disclaim. Nothing's mine._

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**TALES OF SCATHACH THE SOLITARY**

**Horror**

_At the Witching Hour_

Once upon a time, when I was a young girl, we didn't live in peace like today. War was our daily routine during many years. After the last Dark Lord Voldemort had been defeated by Harry Potter when he was but a baby, we'd all thought we would live peacefully from then on. Alas, happiness didn't last.

The Dark Lord came back, and that time he wanted power. I was among the ones to fight by Harry Potter's side in many battles, among those, of course, the infamous Battle of Hogwarts. Hogwarts, magical school since wizardkind separated from Muggles, had been the last obstacle to Voldemort's intentions. And so, there was to be the last battle, the one battle, the only battle that would matter in the end.

It was a brave fight. Shouts were heard from Hogsmeade Village up to Hogwarts' Astronomy Tower. Curses flew through the night, their burning path lighting the battlefield. While the rain poured down on us, we fought like never before. But soon, in the moonlit twilight, the rain, the haste, there was no difference anymore between Death Eaters and Dumbledore's Army. The cries, the shouts, the moans rose above our bloody bodies and above the nameless, faceless, countless corpses on the grounds. And the fighting continued, for hours and hours.

In this chaos of battle, while curses were lighting the adversaries' faces, a girl, no, a woman, called Hermione Granger was among the last to stand upright when she was captured. Five Death Eaters took her down and dragged her away from the battlefield, into the forest. Invisible chains seemed to hold her body upright until the strange procession reached their destination. The Shrieking Shack.

Hermione regained her senses when she was briskly pushed through the door. Although she begged for mercy, telling the Death Eaters that she was about to be married to Ronald Weasley and that her best friend was Harry Potter, her enemies didn't listen to her. Instead, her desperate pleading only seemed to enforce their resolution.

So, Hermione Granger, who had once been the most brilliant witch of her age, died on that one rainy night in the Shrieking Shack at the hands of five Death Eaters, namely Avery, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott and Pansy Parkinson. Her corpse was unceremoniously thrown into the Hogwarts Lake, never to be found again.

Nevertheless, when the Death Eater group returned to the Shack later that night, they perceived strange lights and sounds. Cautiously opening the upstairs bedroom's door, they saw a singular assembly. A lovely, if not faint voice, that seemed to be strangely absent at the same time, invited the five people standing outside to enter the room.

As the door closed with a thud behind their backs, an ear-piercing scream was heard. For suddenly shadowy figures appeared in the pale light seeping through the antique curtains. First they saw a girl of an unearthly beauty, her smiling face betraying no feelings despite her rigid posture. Snow-white was her dress, and her skin seemed to be made of the same thick, yet fragile material. His arm linked with hers, a meager young man stood next to her. Somehow his presence seemed threatening, as if his white hands and hooded face radiated an unknown danger.

Behind the couple appeared a bizarre crowd: Rhiannon, the fairy queen, dressed in black satin. Morrigún, goddess of the Otherworld, her ravens on her shoulders. The Fates, ancient sisters determining the mortals' destiny, a sparkling thread connecting their impeccable dresses. Delirium, a smile on her face, in purple robes with black stars and silvery moons. Despair, a haunted expression lingering in her eyes, in grey robes that seemed to attract dust and moonlight. Dream, Lord Morpheus himself, standing alongside his sisters. Finally, Cernunnos with his antlers, his white dogs growling at the visitors.

A haze seemed to envelop the stunned Death Eaters. Still smiling, the girl in white explained that the Death Eaters had, instead of killing her as they had intended, destined to marry the man next to her. Then she looked at her fiancé, saying he should please greet their guests.

But when the groom lifted his black hood, his face wasn't that of a mere mortal. There was no flesh, much less blood, adorning his body. He was nothing but bones. Death reached for his scythe. And the girl next to him, the ghost that had once been called Hermione Granger, laughed.

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_A/N: Please review... to make me feel less "solitary" ;) And I'd like your answer to the following question: Do you prefer ToStS as title or rather Rêveries d'un promeneur solitaire? Thanks!_

_Anna Scathach_


	2. Beloved Cinderella

_A/N: Thanks to SugaryTears, because you rock and your reviews motivate me to write. Think about it - if you reviewed, you could be up here, and the next chapter would probably be out even faster, because every storyteller loves feedback! *shameless grin*_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or the Telephone song Cendrillon that inspired me for the general plot. Nope._

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**TALES OF SCATHACH THE SOLITARY**

**Fairytale**

_Beloved Cinderella_

Once upon a time, not so long ago, a young girl I knew had found the perfect Prince Charming, a real hero, handsome, rich and smart. He was as obviously infatuated with her as she was in love with him. In short, they were the ideal couple, and everybody wished them luck when they announced their decision to marry right after graduation.

The girl's name was Luna Lovegood. Sunshine on her blonde hair made it sparkle like liquid gold; her skin was as clear as a small river, and as white as snow; her petite frame concealed her strong mind and quick thought. Ginevra Weasley, probably her best friend, used to say her laugh sounded like little bells, and in spite of her rather eccentric behaviour she was a loving daughter, a true friend and a faithful lover.

Her Prince Charming was Harry Potter. Need I say more? Hero of the Wizarding World, he's so famous even you kids should know him. He was handsome, of course, not to mention rich, and he could be charming if he wanted to.

Luna fell in love with Harry, and he fell in love with her. Their relationship progressed slowly, stealing kisses between classes, little touches in hallways and smiles at dinner. Then came the one sunny day when they were sitting by the Lake and Harry proposed to Luna. Her face lit up with the biggest smile I've ever seen, and her deep blue eyes filled with tears of happiness. As she leaned over to kiss him, she whispered her answer, her eyes searching his while a single tear rolled down her cheek.

Like everyone expected, their wedding was magnificent, the groom radiant, the bride the very image of beauty in a white dress with green ornaments. We all held our breath when we saw her walking down the aisle next to her father. Although her face was hidden behind a light green lace veil, we all saw her smile, head held high as her long blonde hair, decorated with small fairy lights and lilies, fanned behind her. Then she lifted the veil, and Harry looked as if he would faint right there. Luna soon-to-be Potter was the very picture of beauty, ethereal like a fairy, gracious like an elf.

They were married, and, after a honeymoon in Australia, Luna moved with him to a small castle out in the green Welsh hills. Tending to dragons and loving her husband made the years kind with Luna. Even after the birth of three children, James Sirius, Albus Severus and Lily Rose, she still looked as she had ten years previously.

But alas, the happiness didn't last. The fairytale broke the day Harry announced to Luna he was leaving. Why, she asked, the hint of a smile still on her face. But when he said it was to live with Gabrielle, she refused to believe him. Why, she asked again. That time, he didn't answer.

The next day at dawn, she heard the sound of four brooms flying away, leaving in haste. Luna ran to the window, but, alas, it was too late. She could only watch her life fly away from her as her beloved children and her husband departed forever. That instant her fairytale completely shattered into a thousand tiny pieces that, Luna thought, seemed to clatter to the floor around her. Standing in the fragments of what had once been an ideal, something we'd all dreamed of since we'd been but children, tears were running down Luna's face and traced glittering paths on her pale cheeks. Not a sound from her lips disturbed the silence that begun to settle in the house.

After that day, Luna never became again the girl I'd once known so well. Soon later, she turned to drinking, apparently finding the oblivion she searched so desperately. Harry had taken their money as well, and, since she couldn't live anymore without her alcoholic solace, she began to make her money on the streets. People who'd known her in her youth barely recognized her anymore. The sunny, light-hearted, even eccentric girl had disappeared. Left of Luna was only her body, a mere shadow of her former self, though still beautiful enough to attract possible clients.

Not even a year later, she was found somnolent in a dark corner of Knockturn Alley. Alcohol and the Wizarding World's various drugs had done an irreparable damage to her frail limbs and delicate mind. Not even thirty-two years old, Luna's life found an ending during a sombre dream from which she never returned.

And thus, Cinderella and her Prince Charming did not live happily ever after.

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_A/N: Next chapter: Draco/Ginny romance goodness!_

_Good? Bad? Indifferent? Please review! _

_Anna Scathach_


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